Dark Green and Silver
by Silverbrightblue
Summary: Felicite Foxwood has everything, and then some. When she is forced to go to Hogwarts, she becomes part of Voldemort's circle. Right next to Draco Malfoy...She discovers that there is a fine line between romance and seduction.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Felicité Foxwood glared at the letter. "This is pointless. Goddamnit, Nancy, I am not leaving."  
  
The older woman shook her head, gray hair escaping her bun. "You have to."  
  
"No, I don't!" Felicité glared at her. "I don't have to do anything I don't want to."  
  
"Yes you do. Now get your ass off that couch and start packing. Move!" snapped Nancy, as the girl refused to stand.  
  
Felicité looked pissed. "Fine. I'll pack. I'll pack the stupid suitcase, and be reminded every second of how I'm not going to miss you." She stomped up the stairs, and Nancy returned to the kitchen.  
  
She tossed her blond curls in the way she always did when angry, thinking it made her look glamorous. Looking at herself in the mirror, she batted her eyelashes at her reflection, letting the white silk robe drop from her bare shoulders in a deliberately sexy way.  
  
"Are you packing?" yelled Nancy from downstairs, disturbing Felicité's moment of vanity.  
  
"Yes, I'm packing. Now go back to the kitchen and quit interrupting me!" the girl screamed back in a hurry. Hearing a sarcastic laugh from the housekeeper-cook downstairs did not improve her mood.  
  
"Stupid cow," she growled, tearing clothes from their hangers with a vengeance. "And black is so plain." She stared at the list of things she would need. "Dragon's-hide gloves, cauldron, yes, yes, yes. But I have nothing..." She looked at the frayed edge of a plain black cotton robe.  
"Nancy!" she screamed shrilly.   
  
"What?" barked the servant.  
  
"I need black robes. Get the Floo Powder," ordered Felicité. "I need to make an emergency trip to Herpetos 8th Alley."  
  
Grumbling profanities and insults that could have gotten her fired in the snap of a finger, Nancy did as she was told, while her young employer got dressed.  
  
"Dressed up for going to Herpetos! And her always talkin' about what to get next. Damn spoiled brat."  
  
"Are you ready then, Nancy?" asked Felicité, who was leaning against the fireplace, watching the stout woman lug the pot  
  
"Yes, Miss Felicité," Nancy growled as she set down the pot with a hard clunk. "Why the hell is that pot so damn far from the fire, anyhow?"  
  
"Because I need an excuse to make you walk back and forth while I watch," snapped Felicité caustically. "Herpetos 8th Alley!" she mandated, throwing powder into the fire, and disappeared in the green flames.  
  
Nancy watched, shaking her head. "Stupid goddamn upstart." She went away, mumbling obscenities.  
  
***  
  
Felicité adored Herpetos. This was where she belonged, shopping for the classiest, most expensive items, surrounded by purebloods. Really, it was the only place worth shopping at.  
  
"Felicité!" A girl on the street called out to her.  
  
"Wyrren Lohmann? I haven't seen you since fourth year! How have you been?"  
  
"Quite good. Are you still keeping that ugly Squib woman?"  
  
"Only as a reminder of how superior wizards really are. She is just so bloody annoying." Sighing, Felicité twirled a strand of golden hair around a finger. "One of these days, I just might Avada Kedavra her." Actually, she never bodily harmed Nancy, although she had been known to throw a house- elf against the wall on a bad day.  
  
Wyrren laughed. "As if it would be a loss. So, I'll see you at Beauxbatons, right? For the transfer program?"  
  
"No." Felicité suddenly remembered why she had come.  
  
"Good lord, why not?"  
  
"Because Daddy found out about a certain uprising in England.you know." She whispered it to the other girl.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, and father's making me go to Hogwarts. Apparently it's one of the best magic schools there is, and he considered sending me there instead of Shailan. Whatever."  
  
"Ugh! There are perks, though." Wyrren's sly dark eyes gleamed.  
  
"Name one," Felicité snapped.  
  
"Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Narcissa's son? Really?"  
  
"Hottest guy there, according to my sources."  
  
"Sounds very interesting."  
  
"Good luck. See ya!" Wyrren walked off, her long, pale hair swishing behind her.  
  
As she entered Vekara Robes, Felicité thought about what she'd heard. She would miss Wyrren, and Shailan Hall of Witches and Wizards in general. Her thoughts were cut off by the sound of Madame Vekara's voice.  
  
"What are you looking for today, Miss Felicité?"  
  
"Black robes, Vekara." Felicité's voice took on the sharp, icy tone she used for addressing those of a lesser rank. "And make them flattering."  
  
"Of course, Miss Felicité! We have black velvet, crushed velvet, silk, satin, sequined, glitter-woven, cashmere wool.I know you are partial to silk and satin." The robe-maker's voice trailed off hopefully.  
  
"A crushed velvet one, two sequined, one glitter-woven, five silk, and five satin. And show me what you have for new fabrics." Felicité looked stylishly bored.  
  
"Oh! Yes, we have a dazzling jade-green satin that would bring out your eyes and a lovely white silk. A chic red, too."  
  
Looking at the jade green satin, Felicité gasped. "One of these, oh yes! Oh, and a white silk."  
  
"Lovely," Madame Vekara looked happy. The girl might be a prima donna with a superiority complex, but she did buy a lot.  
  
As Felicité left the store, she was much happier. She had some gorgeous robes and information of a good-looking guy. Hogwarts was sounding better and better. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
Felicité was waiting at Platform 9¾, watching first-years nervously stumble in through the false wall. She had a look of smug amusement on her face that would have really irritated the first-years if they had noticed. Suddenly, she was off her trunk and on the floor.  
"Ow! Watch it," she snapped to the person who had bumped into her. Getting up to see who it was, she found herself face to face with a boy her age. All she noticed was the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.  
  
Harry Potter had bumped into a girl while he was not paying attention to his trunk. He had offered a hand, which she did not take. She pushed herself up and looked into his face.  
"Er, sorry about that. I, uh, wasn't really paying attention," he mumbled. He noticed that her green eyes were traveling up to the scar on his forehead. He braced himself for the routine astonishment, the awe in her voice, so he was not prepared for her reaction.  
Her eyes narrowed with dark hostility, and she tightened her mouth. "Harry Potter," she growled. "And company." Her eyes flicked scornfully to Ron and Hermione behind him.  
"Yes. Er, I am sorry, I."  
"If I were you, I wouldn't go around bumping into people like me. If I were you, I would be a lit-tle more careful," she said in a low, angry voice, putting heavy meaning on the word careful. She stalked away, her trunk following her in the air.  
Harry Potter was dumbstruck. "What is her problem?"  
"Dunno, mate," said Ron sympathetically. "Some girls are just like that. Not you, Hermione," he added hastily, as she glared at him.  
"Have we seen her before?" Hermione asked.  
"I don't think so. I would've remembered her," said Ron.  
Hermione smacked his arm "Ron!"  
"Hey!"  
"Maybe she's a new student."  
Before they could continue their discussion, the Hogwarts Express chugged into the station, tooting and belching smoke.  
  
Felicité was trying to calm her breathing. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. I can't be so damn obvious. Curse it! But, oh, if it weren't for him, the whole ordeal would be over before she was one year old. But now. Oh, honestly, I can scream later, she told herself. Now I just need to find a seat on the train. Preferably away from that trio. She climbed onto the train.  
  
A/N: Sorry so short. I would really appreciate reviews, thanks! 


End file.
